Please
by SentientMist
Summary: Will walks away.


**AN:** This is meant as a tag for _Haunted_, but I didn't even reference it within the fic. Also, Helen & Will are in an established relationship for the purposes of this story. All mistakes are my own.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them.

**Please**

By: SentientMist

"Please."

Will pauses, hand hovering over the brass doorknob; and he can feel his composure beginning to slip.

"Please don't go," she continues, shaking her head.

Her voice is quietly pleading, and Will's resolve weakens enough for him to turn and face her. Helen stands rigidly, twisting her hands as though she isn't quite certain what to do with them. Tonight, she isn't wearing her emotional mask. Tonight, she isn't hiding. Loss, desperation, guilt, and the barest hint of fear; they are all evident in her voice, her expression, her body language. Will's heart aches at the rare display of vulnerability. But in the end, the silent tears rolling down her cheeks are what break him.

He shakes his head sympathetically. "Helen."

Words failing him, Will quickly crosses the room. "C'mere," he murmurs, drawing her to him.

Helen clings to him; her tense posture visibly easing as she fists her hands in his shirt and buries her face in his chest.

Will tightens his hold on her as she relaxes into him, unable to keep from the instinctive gesture.

They stand like that for a long time, warm tears soaking through the thin material of Will's shirt as he whispers soothingly and drops tender kisses into her hair.

"I love you," she whispers as her tears begin to dry.

"Do you? Because I'm honestly not sure anymore, Helen." His voice is soft not bitter, but it doesn't lessen the sting.

Will's arms are still wrapped tightly around her, but she pulls back enough to look at him, confusion coloring her features.

"Will?"

Hand moving to the back of her head, Will gently guides it down to his shoulder. "Maybe, maybe that's not entirely true," he finally breathes. "I know you love me. I do. But Helen, I'm iin/i love with you. And I don't think you're in love with me," he finishes quietly. Releasing her, Will takes a step backward.

"You need to figure out what you want, Helen."

Helen feels the distance he's creating between them like a crushing weight. "I want iyou/i, Will," she whispers fiercely. "I want you to stay. Here. With me." She's all but begging now, desperate for him to understand.

"Not this time, Helen." Reaching out, he squeezes her hand. "I can't keep doing this."

Suddenly, he's walking out the door; and Helen is standing, frozen in shock, as the latch clicks shut behind him.

Helen drops mutely to the bed, staring at the unforgiving wooden door. It's only moments before a wave of emotion surges over her. Her stomach lurches; she reaches for the trash bin, heaving until she's exhausted.

Curling up in a ball, Helen presses a hand to her mouth and sobs.

* * *

"What the hell did you do?" Kate's voice is sharp, accusing. She drops into the chair across from him and drums her fingers on his desk.

Will looks up from his report, startled. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Magnus. What did you do?"

He pulls off his glasses, dropping them to his desk as he tiredly scrubs a hand across his face. "I told her she needed to figure some things out before we took our relationship any further."

"Seriously? You broke up with her?" She arches an eyebrow in disbelief. "You're an idiot."

"I didn't break up-"

"Oh, you definitely did. Fix this." She walks out, flinging the door shut with an unsettling bang, causing him to flinch.

Resting his forehead on folded arms, Will wonders how much longer he'll be able to do this.

* * *

Two days later, Kate and Henry corner him in the library.

Setting down his book, Will looks up grimacing. "What is this? An intervention?" he asks derisively.

Henry looks a bit sheepish, but Kate just glares pointedly.

"Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but-"

"No, you don't. Have you even _tried_ to talk to her?" This was a side of Kate he really wasn't up to handling tonight.

"Henry, why are you here?" he sighs.

"She made me," he blurts.

There's a dull thud as Kate slaps him. "Ow! Okay," he whines, "_We_ think she needs you."

"Well, maybe she doesn't want me," Will mutters.

"Dude, are you kidding? She hasn't left her bed in _3 days_." Kate's tone clearly indicates she believes he's entirely lacking intelligence.

"What did you say to her anyway?" Henry chimes in.

Will takes a deep breath, finally admitting, "I told her I didn't believe she loved me."

"What? Will, I've never seen her this way about a guy before. Just casual flings, but with you, I don't know, it's different. How could you think she doesn't love you, man?"

"Looks like I'm not the only one who thinks you're an idiot," Kate mumbles.

"I know," Will whispers as he drops his glasses to the table and buries his face in his hands.

* * *

He knocks on the door, entering without bothering to wait for a response, stopping just past the threshold of her bedroom. She's curled on the bed in a fetal position wearing the worn cotton pajamas Will couldn't believe she owned when he first saw them. It was her outfit of choice when she was hurting. "Hey. You can't stay in here forever, you know," he says softly, keeping his distance, giving her space if she wants it.

"I have little motivation to leave," she declares, voice thick from crying.

Nodding, he crosses to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, and tenderly brushes hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. She doesn't pull away, but she doesn't relent either. "Look at me. Please."

A long beat passes before Helen tilts her head enough to see him, but not enough to fully face him. "Why are you here, Will," she prompts; Will's chest tightens at the defeat he hears in her voice.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "They were right. I'm an idiot." His fingers tangle gently in her hair as he strokes her head.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You were right. I still love John, still hope to save him," she admits quietly, fresh tears blurring her vision. "I never should have-" She breaks off on a sob.

"Shh. It's okay. I understand now," he murmurs. "I never should have expected you to give up on him. I wanted a part of you I never had a right too; the part that belongs to someone else, that always will. I thought, I thought if you could give that up, give it to me, that maybe, maybe he couldn't hurt you anymore. Maybe I could protect you."

"I'm not certain even you can save me from myself, Will," she sighs.

Removing his fingers from her hair, he finds her hand, sliding his fingers between hers. "I'd like to try."

Helen smiles slightly at the note of hesitation in his quiet plea and squeezes his hand. "I want that very much," she chokes out through tears.

"Good," he whispers, stretching out beside her and taking her into his arms. She uncurls, relaxing against him, holding him tightly.

"Never walk away again. Please," she begs into his chest.

Closing his eyes, he gives her a gentle squeeze, whispering into her hair, "I promise."


End file.
